The Strange Case
by callafallon
Summary: The battle is won and the Gold's are trying to start a family. But mysterious circumstances are afoot in Storybrooke and it is looking like The Dark One is making a return.
1. Chapter 1

Matter cannot be created or destroyed. It was a law of this new world that they called science, but it had been just as true in the land they had come from. You couldn't simply make someone disappear. You could turn them into a snail or into a rose. You could crush the snail or throw away the wilted rose. But that didn't make them disappear. They would simply turn into dust that would feed other things. You could move things. Transmute them. But never destroy them.

The magic that Mr. Gold had brought to Storybrooke was gone. Or at least it had been used up. In the old world magic was a self-renewing resource. It grew in the mines and teemed in the air. In this world it had been limited to what had initially come through the well. Some had gone towards fighting Regina, her body now decomposing underneath the apple tree she had cared for as a child. In the end it was her love for Henry that had allowed her to sacrifice herself to save the rest of the town from the monster she had become. The remaining magic had gone towards repairing the damage to buildings and throwing an epic celebratory party in the middle of Main Street.

Belle and Gold had skipped the party. Instead they went to Friar Tuck and were married in a ceremony with only one guest, Belle's father. When it came time to sign the marriage license they realized they needed a second witness and so Gold had rounded up Dreamy, who had been serenading one of the nuns in the church courtyard. They had to repeat their vows, which Gold had grumbled about until Belle pointed out it meant they got another first kiss as husband and wife.

Happily ever after didn't necessarily mean happy all the time. Belle hated the pawn shop. "You spend too much time there," she pouted, "and I don't understand why you have to make such harsh deals. We have more than enough money to share. You should just give it to people in need."

He'd looked horrified at that suggestion. "Love, have you been reading any little red books lately?"

"You know I never look at the covers, why?" But he'd only chuckled to himself in response.

Gold had problems with Belle too. She was always doing favors for everyone else. He would come home for lunch to an empty house and spend the rest of the day sulking about it. It was selfish, he knew, but damnit…she was his wife! Didn't that mean that she should be at his beck and call? That all of her beatific smiles and graces should be reserved for him and not spread out for every idiot in town? She volunteered to work as the school librarian three days a week, read to sick people in the hospital twice a week, and was part of a sewing circle that made a handmade quilt for every baby born in town. And with the return of happily ever after's that turned into quite an undertaking.

"I like helping out," she explained to him, sliding onto his lap and kissing away his frown. "I can't just stay home all day waiting for you"

"And why not?"

"Because," she said, kissing him again, "You love me. Because you want me to be happy. I wouldn't be happy just sitting home all day."

"It was good enough for you before."

She rolled her eyes. "I was busy all day. The Dark Castle has dozens of rooms that all needed to be cleaned by hand. This place is much smaller, and you have that little magic man who sweeps up all the dirt."

"The roomba?"

"And that enchanted cupboard that cleans the plates."

"The dishwasher?"

"It really makes housework much less time consuming. So, I can help out other with that extra time. Just now. Just until I have something else to take up my days."

He would argue more, but she wasn't thinking of him anymore. No, she was thinking of a baby. That's what she really wanted to be doing with her afternoons, but that one thing had eluded them so far. It wasn't from a lack of trying. They had decades of lost time to make up for and were well on their way. Belle had consulted with both Doc and Dr. Whale and both said to give it time. Dr. Whale had said that they didn't recommend testing for fertility problems until two years of trying, and they weren't even at one yet.

Gold wasn't angry with her. Not truly. But it was so rare he was able to play the part of the wronged husband that he wasn't able to give it up yet. "I came home for afternoon tea and you weren't here."

"You should have called first."

"I wanted to surprise you," he said, tracing his finger along her jaw. "And so I come all the way home only to find an empty house. It ruined my day."

She snuggled closer, deciding to play his game. "My poor husband. Was it that terrible to have tea all by yourself?"

"It was considering that I wasn't really planning on having tea at all during our tea time." He arched his eyebrows comically before swooping onto her mouth for a deep kiss. His hand reached into Belle's hair, but swiftly pulled away and rested gently on her hips. They just sat there, not pulling or pushing. Gold was always extremely gentle in their lovemaking, to the point that Belle sometimes had to take control in order to move things along.

"I love when you grab my hair," she groaned into his ear and then began flicking his earlobe against her tongue. She moved her mouth lower, to his neck, where she nipped with no gentleness. His hand clenched her hips for a moment but then relaxed. She pulled back to look at him as he watched her. Love was clear in his expression but also something more. Fear?

"Rumple…"

"Call me Gold," he said, his mouth dry. "Call me Husband, or Love, or anything else. I hate that name. It is synonymous with coward in three kingdoms and bastard in the rest."

"Are you sure that you're feeling okay? Because you're acting…"

Before she could finish her question his hands were in her hair again, grabbing near her scalp and pulling her head back so that he had access to her throat. His teeth nipped and the bit, the pain overwhelming the pleasure at first. But only at first, because then his tongue came, and smoothed over the pain. Slowly he licked down to her chest and danced along the tops of her pert breasts that came out of the sundress she was wearing. His hands pushed down the straps, a fingernail scraping the skin of her shoulders. With his hands out of her hair she could look down now and see his face. She needed to see his face.

She couldn't help but move away when she saw him- gold and green flesh and scales. It wasn't possible. The curse was broken. She fell off his lap and onto the floor with a thud. When she looked again she realized it was some type of hallucination. Her husband was there, as human as ever, and struggling not to laugh at her predicament.

"If you so much as let out a single chuckle Rumple…" she shook her head, "Sorry. I forgot."

"Forgot what," he said as he gathered his cane and offered her his free hand up.

"That you didn't want me to call you that."

"Not call me by my name? Did you hit your head in that tumble?"

"No," she said, rubbing her backside, "Although you've been known to accuse me of having my head where I landed."

His hand joined hers, and she felt the pain replaced by heat. 26 steps. That's all they had to go through until they were together again. This time in the safety of their mattress and well carpeted floors.

Yes. The Gold's were happy. There was only one small problem; the fact that matter cannot be destroyed. Energy cannot be destroyed. And something as powerful as The Dark One certainly could not be destroyed. He could only be transmuted into another form.


	2. Chapter 2

Belle was still asleep. That wasn't that strange. She normally rose before him, and was obnoxiously cheery about getting up from bed to face the day, but every now and then he was up first. He considered waking her up with some amorous attention, but decided to just let her sleep. She seemed so peaceful. Nature was calling anyway.

As he left the bathroom he looked at the bed to see himself kissing Belle fiercely. She was stilly half-asleep, but her body was alive and awake, arching into his own. Except…it wasn't his. Not the knob kneed human body he had now. It was all gold scales that sparkled in the first glimpses of morning light. As she cried out his name, Rumpelstiltskin, the creature on top of her bared fangs, lowered his mouth, and tore her throat out.

"Rumplestiltskin," her voice said from all around him. Then the world started shaking and he opened his eyes. Belle was next to the bed, already dressed for the day in a long khaki colored skirt and black peasant style top. Her hair was half-brushed, tousled on the left side and smooth and shiny on the right. "You were screaming, nightmares?"

He wasn't able to find his voice so he only nodded. Belle knelt next to the bed and sat her chin on the edge of his pillow. They were less than an inch apart, her big blue eyes seeming to take up his entire gaze. He wanted to ask her to come back to bed, but it was one of her days at the school. She wouldn't decline his request, but her thoughts would be on the clock and not with him.

_Tell her to stay. Force her. Pin her arms back and tie them to the bed posts so that she can never leave. Make her your slave. _

"You better get going," he said in a shaky voice. "Wouldn't want you to leave the kiddies waiting."

"I can't believe you found so many of these books from the old realm," Snow said as she ran her hand along the shelf of books on the histories of their old world.

"There are times when being married to the town packrat comes in handy," Belle chuckled.

"Mr. Gold didn't mind the children using his collection?"

"Rumpelstiltskin doesn't know. Besides, it isn't his collection. Not really. Maine is a community property state, so it is half mine." Before Snow could chastise her the children came in from recess. Belle didn't ask permission, but she was sure he wouldn't mind. Not really. It was important that the children know their true history. If the past was allowed to remain locked away then it would slowly die.

The curse may have broken but they couldn't return to their old realm. They were part of this world now, and they could either adapt or spend the rest of their lives mourning what could not be. Snow was the perfect example of that adaptation. Technically she was still the Queen of these people, but in this world that meant nothing. She had been offered to take over for Regina as Mayor, but she decided she would rather stay on at the school. Emma was the Mayor now. It only made sense. Now that Storybrooke was part of the real world, no longer trapped in a limbo of its own, the Mayor had to coordinate with people from the county and state. Emma was one of the few people who had contact with the outside world to know how to do those things. Ruby had taken over the Sheriff's office, even though she lamented that the standard uniform did nothing for her figure.

"Hello, Mrs. Gold," a small voice said, pulling her from her musings.

"Hello, Henry," she said in response, "Can I help you find a book? Are you still interested in those pirate stories?"

"Oh, I'm over those now. No, I actually had a question about how books are written. Do you think you can help?"

"I'm more of a reader than a writer," she admitted, "I'm afraid that Mr. Booth might be more helpful in this area. But I'll help you if I can."

Henry sat in one of the reading chairs set up around the library that were built to the children's height. Belle was petite, but she couldn't quite manage in one of those seats, so she pulled herself onto the edge of her desk. Belle liked Henry. Everyone liked Henry, after all, he had been the one to help free them all. Even without his own heroics, or the fact he was technically a Royal Prince, he was such a good hearted child with an inquisitive nature. He reminded her of how she had been as a child, when she wanted to understand the "why" of everything. Her mind conjured up the image of a little girl crawling into her father's lap and asking why the moon couldn't be big every night.

Except this wasn't a memory. The girl wasn't her, but they both had long brown hair. This girl had hazel eyes instead of blue. And the lap she sat on wasn't King Maurice, but her husband in one of his perfectly pressed suits. Her heart tugged as she imagined Rumple explaining to her about the rotation of the Earth, not treating her like a child and telling her some silly myth, but respecting her as being smart enough to understand. Another hypothetical child to add to the collection of images in her head. Every month she was waiting, praying, that this time she would be late. But her monthly cycle was always right on time, and along with the cramping and chocolate cravings she'd be left grieving what might have been.

She focused on Henry, who obviously had a very serious question for her since he seemed lost in thought about how to phrase it. "The people in this world think that the stories of us are just fairy tales, right? But how did they become fairy tales in the first place. The story of Grandmother and Grandfather is hundreds of years old, but it only happened 30 years ago. How is that possible?"

Belle didn't know what to say. She'd never really thought about it before. "Well, time is a strange thing between worlds," she suggested, "Maybe what feels like a year in our world is hundreds of years here."

This seemed possible, but Henry still wasn't satisfied. "That still doesn't explain how people heard about the stories in the first place. They thought they were just making up something, but it ended up being real. How is that possible?"

Belle wasn't quite sure. But she knew exactly who to ask.

The nightmare ended up being the highlight of Rumplestiltskin's day. His knee was aching more than usual, a sign that the weather was going to turn, and he'd been plagued with a headache all afternoon. The bell to his shop sounded like a gong in his ear when it jingled causing him to curse under his breath.

"Nice to see you too, Gold."

He gave a half-hearted bow to the woman who entered. "Mayor Swan. What do you want, and couldn't you come back later to get it?"

"Believe me, if I didn't have to be here I wouldn't be. I know you're used to running this town, but you have to at least try and follow the rules."

"I have no idea what you are referring to." He had told her that plenty of times in the past, but this was the first time he really meant it. That was the problem with being such a notorious liar, nobody believed you when you were telling the truth.

"Look, I know that you don't exactly have the best relationship with the fairies. But you can't take back your donation to the orphanage just because you don't like who is running it." She handed him the note from the bank with the stop payment request that he had, apparently, asked for. Something he didn't remember at all.

"I'll contact the bank immediately," he muttered, "Be seeing you around, Mayor Swan."

Emma looked around, confused. "That's it? I come in and ask you to do something, and then you just do it. What exactly is your game?"

"Chess, generally, but I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty from a lack of challenge." She was glaring at him, which was good. Glaring meant that things were normal between them. It was much better than the vaguely concerned look she was giving him when she first came in. "I will correct this bank issue, but only if you promise to do something for me."

She now looked like she wanted to strangle him. Yes, back to normal. "I'm not making that mistake again."

"No blank check this time," he promised, "I just would prefer it if you would keep this little incident from my wife. She's the one who made the donation in the first place, and she wouldn't much like me trying to go behind her back to cancel it."

It was a lie, but a believable one because he cast himself in the role of the villain. Emma agreed and after watching him call the bank, she left. Gold followed behind a moment later, not caring that his shop was supposed to be open for another three hours. He was apparently in so much pain that he was making calls he didn't remember. What he needed most was to go home, take a long bath, and then bury himself inside Belle until she begged him for mercy.

The thought had come unbidden to his mind shocking him with its depravity. If he had looked down at his shadow he would have seen it take on a different shape as it almost danced along the sidewalk, jumping ahead and behind of his methodical gate.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks so much for the reviews and story alerts. I also have a new Tumblr at .com where I post random thoughts ad whatnots. Knowing people are reading keeps me writing. _

"Belle," Rumpelstiltskin called out when he opened the door, "I'm home." He paused, waiting to hear the sound of her footsteps down the stairs or her voice calling him from the kitchen. She was home. Her car, a Volkswagen Passat that she had loved because of its blue color and he'd approved of because of its safety rating, was parked in the driveway. As he entered the bedroom he saw her clothes scattered along the floor, her long skirt followed by her top a few steps away, then her beige panties and finally her black lace bra. He followed the trail like breadcrumbs until reaching the bathroom where he could hear water running. Over that sound he heard his wife's lilting voice. "Brian," she said, and then there was a sigh, "Brian."

One hand froze at the doorknob while the other one gripped the handle of his cane with such force that he lost feeling in his fingers. _It was only a matter of time before she found someone else. Someone younger. Not crippled. Able to give her the child she wants and a life where she isn't looked down on by anyone. Who knows how long this has been going on? Maybe all along. Maybe…_

"Britney," she said, sighing again. "Britney Gold." Rumple nudged the door open with his cane, slowly so as to not disturb whatever was going on. The lights were off in th bathroom, light coming in through the high frosted window above the tub and some candles lit in the counter. The candles were not really for illumination, there was more than enough daylight spilling in, but let out a soft clean scent like rain. Belle was soaking in the large claw foot tub, bubbles covering her body except for her head, which was reclining on a bath pillow against the edge of the tub. In her hands she held a book of baby names. "rNo, Britney Gold sounds like a stripper. The kids would tease her." She sighed again, closing her eyes and rolling her neck against the pillow, stretching her leg out of the bubbles as she extended the muscles.

He stood above the tub, looking down on her with a smile. His knee was still killing him and his head throbbed with each beat of his heart, but it was hard not to be happy as he watched her without her knowledge. Belle was such sweet girl, and slightly self-conscious in a lovely innocent way, but he adored seeing her without any concern of how she would appear to anyone else. His mind thought of the poor Genie who became Sydney Glass. To spend a lifetime watching the one you love but unable to do more was a type of torture, but it did have some allure. Being able to watch Belle like this, unaware of his presence and completely herself, did not seem like such a terrible fate.

On the other hand, what was the fun in just watching.

"This is a town where people think that Hansel and Rapunzel are perfectly normal names, I don't think that Britney Gold would merit a mention."

Belle was startled, and dropped her book into the bath. Leaning on his cane, Rumpelstiltskin leaned over and retrieved it, tossing the ruined mess of pulp to the side haphazardly. Belle tried not to look at him, embarrassed that he'd caught her like this. She had a memory, one of the false memories of this world but it felt real, of being a teenager and making out with her boyfriend on the couch when he father came home early and caught them. That hadn't been as awkward as this. If he'd caught her reading one of those silly Shades of Grey books that Ella had been raving about it wouldn't have been so mortifying. Teenagers are expected to be curious and women have lusty appetites, but lingering over a book of baby names when you weren't pregnant was just strange. And it would only be a moment in time before he noticed the test sitting on the bathroom counter that they'd agreed not to use.

"Ovulation Kit?" he said, reading the discarded box and then glancing at the test next to it. "I thought we agreed not to track these things. What happened to just letting things happen naturally?" He wasn't angry; she knew that from his calm and even tone. But he had every right to be. Before their wedding, when he had discreetly broached the topic of children in an effort to figure out if he would need to procure anything special before they consummated their marriage, they had agreed that they both wanted a family together. They also didn't mind if it started sooner rather than later. She'd assume that she'd have a baby in her arms before their first anniversary, but with each month she became desperate. Even if the doctors told her not to worry she read about fertility tracking, and temperature monitoring, and even the tests they sold at the drug store that could say when you were most likely to become pregnant.

But there was something so clinical about the whole thing. It turned the act of creating a child into a chore that needed to be completed instead of being romantic and, well, magical. Rumple had said that, in that annoyingly logical way of his, and Belle had agreed to just let things happen. But then she'd been at the drugstore getting toothpaste and she found herself walking down the aisle with the test, and the baby name book had just been sitting with the other paperback books on a wire rack near the cash register.

Belle finally gathered her courage to look up at her husband and noticed his pale complexion and the deep set circles that rimmed his eyes. "You look awful. What's wrong?"

"I wasn't feeling great," he admitted, "I'd planned on coming home and going to sleep. But I'm assuming you had other things on the agenda for this evening?"

She ignored his question. "Is it your leg?"

"And my head."

"There must be a storm coming in. I swear, you're a better predictor of bad weather than any of the people on television. The water is still warm, you come relax in the bath and soak your knee, and I'll put on some beef stew for dinner."

He reached for his tie and began untying it with one hand. "I have a better idea. You stay in the tub, and I join you."

"Are you sure? I thought you weren't feeling well."

He was done with the tie, which now hung around his neck, and was unbuttoning his shirt. He sluffed the shirt and his jacket off, the tie following along, and neatly hung them on a hook against the wall. He moved efficiently, with no extraneous movements, and she couldn't help but stare as she watched his fingers undoing clasps and buttons so deftly.

Belle had always been awkwardly clumsy. As a princess her formal education had focused on dance, music, and sewing, but she could never master the steps without looking at her feet, she was always hitting the wrong keys on the piano, and she once stitched a handkerchief to her dress while trying to embroider a flower on it. Even in this new world she struggled, often times ending up about to leave the house with her shirt on inside out or her buttons out of alignment. Then again, as a princess, she didn't actually need to be good at any of those skills she was taught. Oh, dancing and piano playing and sewing were supposed to get her a husband, but even without those abilities someone would have married her for her position. Then they could hire musicians and seamstresses, and if she had stepped on everyone feet they wouldn't have dared mentioned it because she would have been Queen.

Rumpelstiltskin was a craftsman. His hands had to learn to work with wool and spin the cloth that would feed his family. Even though that was a long time ago his hands had never lost their dexterity. Belle knew better than anyone what those hands were capable of and the thought made her thighs clench involuntarily. She moved forward in the tub, allowing him to sit. She leaned against him, his chin resting on the top of her head as his hand began playing with her hair.

Belle's hand ran under the water, search out his bad knee, and messaging it as he sank deeper into the tub. His muscles relaxed under her attentions. It wasn't long until any pain was overpowered by the first stirrings of lust. Belle must have felt him beginning to harden at her back because the hand that wasn't working on his knee searched out his hand and squeezed it.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked.

He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, smelling the soapy bubbles on her. "You tell me."

He moved his hands into the water and then slid them along his wife's ribcage and to her breasts. The liquid allowed them to move across her with no friction as his touch skated over her puckered nipples. Belle turned her head, searching for his mouth for a brief kiss, but it wasn't enough. Finally, she rolled onto her stomach so she could give him a proper kiss, tongues playing gently between their lips.

Their lovemaking was made somewhat awkward by the bathtub which didn't allow for much room to maneuver. Belle could only rock her hips back and forth, grinding occasionally to increase the pressure on her clit. The pleasure was slow to build, with no sudden intense plateau but just the continual joy of being joined together as one until she was on the edge of release. Their eyes locked as he began thrusting upwards while she continued making small grinding circles with her hips. They each refused to look away, or even blink, when she a small tremor shook her body from the inside out. He could feel her, clenching around him over and over again while making small gasps of pleasure. It was too much for his senses and he joined her with the words "I love you," on his lips.

Reluctantly Belle got out of the bath, wrapping herself in one of the fluffy towels that hung on the wall. "I need to start dinner soon or we won't be eating until midnight." He nodded, the afterglow fading away and being replaced by the throbbing pain in his head. Belle would understand if he skipped dinner and went straight to bed. Sometimes with these headaches he just needed to sleep through them.

_She'd understand, but she'll be disappointed. It's hard to get a baby in you when your elderly husband goes to bed before sunset. In your younger days you would have had her three times more tonight. In your younger days you'd already have given her that baby. You hadn't even been trying when you got Bae's mother in a fix. _

That dark voice in his head pointed out that he still had some painkillers in the medicine cabinet from before his memory returned. Mr. Gold had taken them like clockwork, but once the memories came back he had stopped taking them, hating the way they would cloud his mind and dull his senses. But he'd kept them around, and it wouldn't be a terrible idea to take one tonight.

He opened the bottle and tapped out one of the pills, swallowing it without water. The moment he did he could have sworn he heard a high pitched laugh in the distance.


	4. Chapter 4

He didn't have a name.

More precisely, he didn't know what that name was. The Dark One was more of an honorific title than a name. Rumpelstiltskin was the name of the mortal he was bound to, but it wasn't his name. His name had been lost to time. He had come to enjoy the name Mr. Gold during the years here in the cursed land. It suited him far better than any other name he could remember. Mr. Gold's name was whispered and feared. He liked that. He didn't have access to his magic, and so he couldn't do any real damage. That was unfortunate. He could keep rents high and keep the town on the edge of panic, placing them in positions where they would have to come to him to make a deal. They would thank him to his face when he agreed to take their baubles, or children in the case of that Ashley woman, even as he caused most of their problems to begin with. Money was the magic of this land and that made Mr. Gold as powerful here as The Dark One had been in the old lands.

That was before Emma Swan ruined everything. When the haphazard savior came to town and the memories of that sad sack spinner returned. Suddenly everything was all about getting his son back or mooning over a chipped cup. Rumpelstiltskin sat and stared at that stupid tea set, but it was Mr. Gold who had beaten the man who stole it within an inch of his life. If Rumple had been in control in that moment he probably would have drown Moe French in tears, or else he would have just run away as he always did. The spinner wasn't a man who expressed anger. He repressed it all until it turned into guilt and regret.

Mr. Gold on the other hand, regretted nothing.

Well, almost nothing.

The malevolent force started to get dressed, pushing aside those stuffy suits that the mortal preferred and searching out the only pair of jeans in his wardrobe. They weren't quite the leathers he loved but they were close enough in this world. He pulled on a shirt and skipped the tie, they reminded him too much of a noose, and grabbed the cane to keep up appearances. The Dark One didn't feel pain, or much of anything at all. It was as if the world was dulled when experienced through his immortal eyes. In order for him to feel anything it had to be more. It needed to be sweeter, stronger, and more savage.

He rarely got the chance to fully sate these needs. The spinner would usually take over at the last minute and pull back from the edge. But he wasn't here tonight. But his wife was. He felt like doing a jig in excitement. For the first time since she had been returned he would get her all to himself. No more having to be satisfied with taking over in moments when Rumpelstiltskin was too overwhelmed to stop him. No more watching from the sidelines at her smooth skin that begged to be slapped and spanked and made to be as red as her lips.

Coming down the stairs he saw her in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. "Wife," he called out, "Why don't you put that away. We could go out to dinner."

"You seem to have made a miraculous recovery," Belle said, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. He leaned forward to kiss her, tugging lightly on her bottom lip before he pulled away.

"Yes, so let's celebrate by going out for a lovely meal."

She was wearing a silk robe and nothing else. "Are you being serious? I need to go upstairs and change."

He grabbed the tied sash around her waist and used it to pull her to him. "You may go upstairs, but I refuse to let you ever change. I've waited so long to have you to myself…maybe we shouldn't go out after all. I would be perfectly fine laying you out on the dining room table and devouring every inch of you."

Belle's breath hitched at his words, the image they made in her mind, and she wondered if someone could climax from words alone. "I'll go get dressed," she finally said, scurrying upstairs as her husband's eyes watched her.

He had insisted on driving with the top down, even though it was drizzling. "Don't you just love the wind in your hair?" he yelled over the sound of the engine. Belle turned all the vents on her as she moved the heat to its maximum level.

"Did you just run that stop sign?"

"Those things are really more of a suggestion than a rule."

"Rum," she said, "I'm cold." He was about to complain when he felt her body moving closer to him, forcing his arm around her shoulder in a partial embrace. He slowed down, not trusting his ability to react with his senses so distracted by the smell of roses in her hair or the small gooseflesh he could feel on her arm. By all accounts this was impossible. The Dark One could walk through a field of rotting corpses and not notice the smell because he was so detached from the mortal realm, and yet he could smell Belle's shampoo, and soap, and even the mint from her toothpaste.

He pulled his arm away and put the roof up.

The restaurant was a snooty French place operated by a former court chef who had a special talent with seafood. Dr. Whale, background still unknown, was on a date with Maid Marian. Turned out that given the freedom of this world Robin preferred the company of his Merry Men. Archie was at a table with the former Mother Superior, looking as miserable as anyone would be with that blue troublemaker. The Dark One wanted to growl at her, but Belle only waved and graced them with one of her lovely smiles.

"Maybe this was a mistake," he muttered. He didn't like other people getting Belle's smiles. He wanted everything for himself. It would have been easier in the Dark Castle where she would have belonged to him alone forever. Belle misunderstood his intentions however and assumed he was concerned about her safety. That was the reason he always gave for being a homebody.

"Oh no! We go out so rarely. It will be nice. I promise." The waiter went to pull out her chair but Gold batted him away with his cane. He offered the seat with a flourish planting a kiss in her hair as she sat. He chose the seat to her left instead of being across from her, close enough so that their knees touched under the table.

Belle found his hand and linked her fingers with his own. "I know why you're nervous," she said, "But it's okay. I'm safe. Nobody can hurt me again."

"Nobody?"

"You'll protect me."

He pulled his hand from hers and gripped her thigh under the table. "But who will protect you from me?"

He ordered dinner for both of them, cheese fondue first course followed by duck for him and a rockfish for her. Belle struggled with her bread falling off the skewer and being lost in the melted cheese. He plucked the long fork from her hand and began feeding her.

"Rumple, people are looking at us!"

"Of course they are. We're quite the site. Beauty and the beast…although if anyone else called you a beast they wouldn't live to do it again."

She laughed too loudly, gaining even more glares from the other fairy tale residents in the restaurant. She didn't care. Had they ever laughed out loud in public? Did they ever allow people to see how happy they were? Belle knew that people liked her as much as they hated her husband. Part of it was the fact that they didn't get to see him like this.

Of course, when was the last time he had ever been like this? Feeding her. Laughing. Teasing her thighs with his hands under the table. Even at home there were only glimpses of this playfulness.

After the main course and a desert of chocolate dipped strawberries, that he had insisted on feeing her by hand along with kissing away the juice as it dripped on her lips, they walked to the car. He clicked the remote to unlock the car, but held fast to Belle's arm as she tried to walk to the passengers door.

"What?"

He stared at her with such intensity that her heart skipped a beat. Before she could ask anything more he pinned her against the driver's side door and kissed her breathless. The metal of the car door was cold against her back and the dress she wore only came to her mid-thighs. Well, that was where it normally fell, but he had worked it up to her hip. He was fondling her ass while working his hands underneath her thin panties. When his hand brushed against her wet sex she bit him.

It wasn't intentional, and when he pulled away she started to apologize. "I'm sorry Rum…"

He kissed her harder then. "Don't speak," he growled, "Don't say a word except yes."

That was exactly what she said over and over again as his fingers danced inside of her. It was overwhelming. He could smell her musk, feel her silky walls trembling beneath him, and taste her skin. When she was close to climax he withdrew his hand harshly. He could feel himself on the verge of his own release, spurred on by her reaction. He needed to be inside her.

It was a tight fit to get her straddling his lap in the driver's seat but it didn't matter. It only took a few thrusts for him to finish, even as Belle was still on her own verge. "Don't worry dearie," he said as he ran his tongue along her neck, "We have the entire night before us. I'm not nearly done with you."

The next morning Rumpelstiltskin woke up with a splitting headache, his leg feeling as if it was a pin cushion, and his body draped over the dining room table. Belle was next to him, curled underneath a quilt that was normally on the couch. She rolled over in his arms, the blanket slipping slightly from her shoulders exposing her back marred with deep red scratches. His fingers traced them. How had that happened? Slowly he realized that they were the exact size of his own fingers. There were the first signs of bruises on the back of her neck. He moved to touch it, his hand fitting perfectly on the purple mark.


	5. Chapter 5

_As always so much thanks for the comments and follows. It keeps me writing, even when I have a week like the last one when I was working 12 hour days. Love you all so much. _

_Previously: The dark one took over Rumple and spent a night on the town with Belle. The next morning he wakes up as himself and finds bruises all over his wife. Meanwhile, the couple continues to try and have a child, and Henry asked Belle how this world without magic has heard so many fairy tales in the first place. _

Belle was in pain. It was a lovely pain, like the day after a good workout, and maybe that was an apt description for the previous evening's events. Her husband put her through quite a workout. First in the car at the restaurant and then, the moment they got home, he had led her to the great table which had once been in the great hall of The Dark Castle.

"Do you know how many times I thought about fucking you on this table?" he growled into her ear. "I thought about you bent over it, lying on top of it, even sitting underneath it as you pleasured me."

"And which one of those would you like to do tonight?"

He reached his hand into her hair, pulling her into a hard kiss, before turning her towards the table and leaning her over it. "All of them, Wife. And so many more."

He had been a beast, the impish character she had fallen in love with in another time and place. He was rough and powerful, but not selfish. He had made sure that she was enjoying herself as much as him, even teasing her about how much she enjoyed his uncharacteristically rough treatment.

"You're such a naughty girl. Don't you know that fair maidens aren't supposed to get so wet when being ravished by monsters?"

"What about when we're being ravished by our husbands?"

He'd chuckled, deep and low. "Your husband isn't here, Dearie. Does he ever treat you like this? Does your husband know the dark ways to please his wanton little wife?"

For all of his talk, she knew he wouldn't hurt her. Not really. A few times he had come close, the mix of pleasure and pain tipping too far towards the later, but he would catch her cry of real distress and pull back. It was just a little role playing. Him taking on the role of the man from The Dark Castle that she never had the chance to experience these intimacies with. When they were both sweaty and sated he wrapped her in a quilt from the couch and they fell asleep on the table top. But just before she drifted into dreams she heard him say "I love you" with so much emotion behind it that she worried that he was going to cry.

This morning was different. He'd woken her with a shameful expression and eyes that couldn't meet her own. "Belle, move to the couch. It will be more comfortable." She'd obeyed in a sleepy haze. When she woke hours later he was gone. Belle showered and dressed. This was the day that she volunteered at the orphanage, but she called in to say she was feeling under the weather today.

The orphanage had been a new creation. Before the curse broke children were all with a family, usually their own but sometimes not. But when the curse was lifted people suddenly had competing memories. Some people, like her husband, could handle these conflicting lives. Others, like Jefferson, struggled with them. Some people ran from Storybrooke, or took to drink, or even took their own lives. The children of these poor souls, along with the ones who were made orphans by the war, were in the care of the Nuns. It kept the children from being taken from Storybrooke and sent to foster homes in other parts of the state. And as people found their footing they could return and reclaim their children. Or couples would step up and adopt them.

Belle would have been happy adopting a child. She knew that love was more important than biology. The problem was once that was almost poetic in its cruel symmetry. The magical town of Storybrooke would never allow the curse maker Rumpelstiltskin to adopt a child no matter how much they loved his wife. And the real world would never let the mentally ill Belle French Gold have one even though her lawyer husband appeared to be an upstanding member of the community on paper.

But maybe last night was the night it finally worked. They certainly had maximized the chances of getting her with child. Belle grinned, imagining their child taking root inside of her at this very moment. She knew that her husband wanted a little girl. He said it was because he wanted another Belle to dote on, but she suspected it was because a little boy would be a harsh reminder of the son her could never find. She secretly wanted a son as a chance to allow Rumple to see how much he had changed and maybe find some closure on the sadness he still felt from Bae. But as long as the child was healthy she didn't care what it looked like or what gender it was.

It felt strange to take a day off, but she knew exactly how to spend it. After changing into a pair of Rumple's old flannel pajamas she went to the library to look for a book. At the back of her mind she was still thinking about the question Henry had asked her about how this world knew the stories of their realm. She'd actually never read Henry's book, or any of the other fairy tales of this land. But Rumple had collected shelves of them. Belle picked out one called "Folk and Fairy Tales and Their Meanings" and began to read.

On the other side of town her husband was doing some research of his own using the computer he had in his office at the shop. He personally hated the things. Research should be done over books, not by typing words on a screen. The fact that he was a terrible typist who had to search out each letter didn't help.

The results were also not helping. It looked like the medicines he had hoped for did exist, but they were hard to get in this land. He would need a prescription and that was not something he was willing to do. It would mean talking to Archie about his problem, and that meant confiding in a man who he didn't really trust to keep it secret. If the cricket man thought that he was a danger to others he would report it to Ruby and Emma. They'd claim he was going back to his old ways and he'd only barely escaped a noose the first time around.

He would just have to be more careful. No more pain pills. That was clear. But it might not be enough. Every time he closed his eyes he could see the bruises on Belle's body. He had done that. He couldn't remember how it had happened. The last memory he had was their joining in the bathtub when he had been so gentle while preying that this was the month that they finally conceived. He couldn't have caused the marks then. And how had they ended up on the table?

He had fantasies about taking her on the table. Back when she was his maid he had often wondered what it would be like to make her his on that table, but in this world those types of thoughts had left in favor of gentle worshiping of her. The fantasies of the old world were rough and cruel, based on lust and not true love.

_He wanted her on that table. Maybe he had her last night._

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be. The curse had been broken. He and Belle had kissed hundreds of times. There's no way that that evil could remain inside him.

But he also couldn't risk hurting her again. He took his coat and closed up early. He would need to go by the hardware store owned by the three Hamm brothers. He needed to get a new security system. One that would keep something in instead of keeping things out.

Belle had fallen asleep while reading. The fairy stories here were different here than the real ones. Sometimes it was just details they got wrong. Like the version of her own story in which she had two selfish sisters. Or how she supposedly returned to him to free him from the curse. That certainly would have been better than being held captive by the Queen.

More interesting were the stories that were reported as historical fact but clearly couldn't be. Like the tales of the changeling children, fake babies left behind by fairies after they steal the real ones. The fairies in this land were not the ones she knew of. They had sharp teeth and were playing tricks ad hurting people.

And then there was the Pied Piper, the story of a man who took all a town's children as punishment when a deal went bad. That certainly sounded like something that Rumple might have done, and she was going to ask him about it over dinner, but the book had said it was based on real events. All of the children of Hamelin did disappear. Although historians didn't believe that it was a mysterious magic man who did it. They said that the story was an allegory about the crusades or some illness that may have swept through.

Belle was pulled from her thought by a loud screeching noise. Running towards it she saw Rumple with a screwdriver in one hand and an instruction manual in the other standing outside the door to his home office. He closed the door and the sound silenced.

"What on earth is that?"

He smiled at his wife, his expression not reaching his eyes. "How do you look better in my clothes than I do?"

"That is sweet, but it doesn't answer the question."

"Yes, that… it's an alarm."

"I'd figured that much out. I guess I don't understand why you think you need one. Are you worried that I'm snooping on your important business."

He looked away from her. "You know I have no secrets from you."

"That's certainly true, but mostly because you can't keep a secret. You are a terrible liar. So, what is really going on?"

Rumple didn't know what to say. I hurt you badly last night and I don't remember it? I think I'm losing my mind? There's a slight chance that the all-consuming evil force that we thought we got rid of is taking over again? It would do nothing but worry her when there wasn't yet anything to be worried about. He was just speculating. Maybe nothing was wrong.

"Belle, I need you to trust me." He was going to launch into a long explanation to convince her to put her faith in him, but her lips were on his before he could get a word out. It was a soft and sweet sharing, one that meant to show him her complete devotion.

"Whatever you need," she said, before kissing him again. "Just promise that when the time comes that you will trust me enough to let me help you."


	6. Chapter 6

Being Sheriff of Storybrooke was, generally, a pretty good gig. Since Regina was defeated the crime rate was amazingly low. Usually Ruby's job wasn't much more than wrangling drunk and disorderly people or settling arguments brought over from a land that no longer existed. It wasn't all that different from her work in the Diner. Deal with problems as they crop up and keep everyone happy. Except now she had a gun.

But occasionally there was some action. Like this morning's report of vandalism down Drury Lane. It had been petty stuff. Thrown rocks causing cracks and mailboxes knocked over. It wasn't too major, until she saw the impressive blowout of the second floor window of the Gold house. The couple must have been sleeping in, at least that's what Ruby hoped was the reason it took so long for Belle to answer the door. "Did you hear anything?"

Belle shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can sleep through pretty much anything." It was a leftover habit from her years in the Queen's dungeon where nights were filled with the terrified cries of tortured men. "But Rumple was in his office at the time." She called her husband downstairs. It might have been the first time Ruby saw him in something other than a suit. He looked his age, somewhere around a thousand years old.

"Mr. Gold, were you in the office? Is that the room where the window broke?"

Gold nodded. "I was in there. But I didn't see anything that would help you."

"Well, let me check out the crime scene. We can probably get fingerprints off the brick."

"Brick?" he asked.

Ruby looked at the window. It was blown clear out. "Or something bigger. A cinder block?"

Belle frowned. "There wasn't anything in there."

"There had to be something. At least glass from the window," Ruby said, "I'll just go check."

Mr. Gold's cane blocked her entrance through the door. "Sorry, Sheriff, but not without a warrant."

"Are you kidding! You're the victim. That's a crime scene."

"Not if we don't press charges," he pointed out, "And we aren't."

He was glad when Ruby left, even happier when he convinced Belle to head on to her work at the school. He told her not to worry, and that he'd clean up anything. He needed the women to leave before one of the recognized that the broken glass was on the outside of the window. Nothing had been thrown into the house, but something had been thrown out.

Rumplestiltskin had woken up in the middle of the night underneath the old Troll bridge with no memory of how he got there. And, more upsetting, no car or cane. The bridge wasn't far from the condo of Dr. Whale, and he managed to make it there around 3AM.

"I can't just get you these drugs. They are powerful anti-psychotic medications. You should be under the care of a real doctor. I mean, I am a real doctor. But a specialist. A psychiatrist. Like Hopper."

Gold had been arguing with the man for a half-hour. Twenty minutes to be precise. The first ten minutes of the visit was taken up by Whale changing out of his tiny silk robe and into something less terrifying. "The deal is simple, doctor. You give me the drugs. You drive me to my house. You keep your mouth shut about ALL of this. Or I march into Main Street and tell everyone who you really are."

"So… maybe they won't care. They've managed to accept you after all."

"Yes, but I'm just an old magical dealmaker. You're Bluebeard. Might make it tricky to get a date after they hear what happened to your previous wives."

"You know that those stories weren't true. I never killed anyone." It was true. While the myth of Bluebeard was a man who took a wife and then murdered her, the reality was only slightly better. The old world didn't have the same view of women as this new land. There, women were for breeding and caring for the home. If a woman was unable to have a child it was considered to be cause for an annulment. She would go home to her family, unmarried in the eyes of the clerics, but spoiled to ny future husband who would not want to take on a woman who was impure. He may not have killed those seven wives, but he might as well have done so when he sent them away.

"Do you think that the good residents of Storybrooke will care that you didn't kill them with your own hands, but only passively sat buy as their lives were decimated?" Gold shrugged. "Are you prepared to wait and see? Or will you just do the simple thing I'm asking for."

Gold made it back to the pink house before Belle woke. She was still safe and sound, just as he had left her before locking himself way in the room. But apparently it hadn't been enough. His first instinct was just to run. Leave her behind and run away to save her from whatever darkness was taking him over again. But even if he ran away, it was no promise that beast wouldn't just run back when he next took control. He had to make sure the beast stayed at bay.

He locked himself in the bathroom with the pills.

_You know that this won't work._

Rumplestiltskin looked at his reflection in the mirror, but the man looking back was not himself. Not a tired and old cripple. The reflection was cocky, smug, and grinning. It was his face but not his soul. The beast. The dark one. The monster.

_I've broken through all bonds of magical law. I've survived the kiss of true love. Do you think you can stop me with some silly little chemicals?_

He ignored the reflection and filled a glass with water from the faucet.

_It won't defeat me. I won't go away. I'll be sitting underneath just waiting. Do you know what happens when you let pressure build up? It explodes. Are you prepared to deal with the aftermath?_

Downstairs Ruby was knocking on the door. He tipped out two pills. The reflection threw its hands against the mirror, as if trying to break it.

_Don't be an idiot. She's in danger. Everyone is in danger. Why do you think I'm back? You need me. She needs both of us if she is going to survive this. _

He was using Belle against him. The one trick he knew could work. But he wouldn't believe the lies of a monster and so he took the pills. Then he went downstairs and got rid of Ruby. Sent Belle to class and tried to pretend that everything was okay now.

Rumplestiltskin was a liar. It was as much a part of him as his spinning, or his dealmaking, or his magic. Belle could always tell when he was lying, but she was the only one. He managed to avoid the detection of Emma Swan, in spite of her heralded gifts. During the next three weeks he was good enough to deceive himself.

He took the pills every day at the same time. He rarely allowed himself to sleep, afraid of losing control again. When he did need to finally rest it would be during the day, and in the room above the shop, away from Belle. But even with those precautions things were slipping from his control. He would be missing time. Find himself in places he didn't remember going to. There were little notes written in a strange hand around the house and office. _Everything comes from somewhere._

Belle. Poor darling Belle. She was worried about him, had said so every morning and night. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. "Just tell me," she said over breakfast.

"I don't want to worry you."

"I'm already worried. I doubt the truth could be worse than what I worry."

_Don't be so sure_, a voice said in his own head. Belle reached for his hand. "I worry that you are angry with me," she said softly. "This all started weeks ago…the night that I…that we…when I broke my promise to you. When I used that ovulation test after we agreed not to."

He wanted to laugh at how mistaken she was about his problem. "Belle, it has nothing to do with that. I promise you."

"Because, if you're worried about having a child, I understand. You lost your son. And I know that our child could never replace him. But you are going to be an amazing father. I know it."

He reached for her hand. "And you'll be an amazing mother one day."

Her face turned pink. "Well, maybe sooner than one day. Maybe, 9 months sooner. I'm pregnant."

He didn't hear what came next. About her concern about how it was still early in the pregnancy and that things could happen still. That they should keep it between themselves until she made it to the third month. Just in case. He didn't really comprehend anything other than the fact that Belle was going to have a baby. A baby that was conceived on a night when that monster had taken over his body.

"Rumplestiltskin," she pleaded, "say something."

From across the table her husband looked up and smiled, his gold tooth flashing. Belle found herself gripping her fork tightly, as if for protection, but it was pure instinct. This was Rumple. There was no reason to be afraid.

"I have some things I need to take care of, but I want to celebrate this good news. Meet me at the cabin tonight, at 5. We'll have a nice romantic weekend. Won't we Belle?"

He kissed her goodbye with ferocity, biting her lip until she whimpered in his mouth. Her husband was whistling when he walked away with no limp and leaving his cane at the table.


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing he needed was money. Money was the power of this world, and while it wouldn't do much against the force that was coming, it would make running possible. The Dark One could appreciate the irony. The Coward had wanted to run, but had thought it futile. He was right. If he'd run alone then it would have failed. He needed to run with Belle. She needed to be saved, especially now that she was pregnant.

Her child would be a powerful prize. No matter which man was the father it would have the strength of the only woman to capture the heart of The Dark One. It would be a child of wisdom and passion, a ruler in any world it was born into. In this land those traits would allow it to flourish. In some others it would be immediately identified as a threat and put to death. They needed to flee before that happened.

Fortunately, Mr. Gold was rather good at collecting money in this world. Much of it was in various investments that would take precious time to transfer, but there was enough on hand to get them to safety. Bermuda was located in an area of dimensional disturbance that would keep them hidden. He'd surprise Belle with a romantic vacation to celebrate her pregnancy. And if she didn't want to go, or wished to postpone it due to her work, then the handcuffs and rope would be needed. He'd booked a private plane out of Boston at midnight. Some money into the right hands and they'd ignore that his passenger wasn't entirely willing.

Belle would want him to try and help all the other people instead of just saving her. She was annoyingly noble like that. And, unfortunately, he loved her. He might have been a monster, but he was a monster who had fallen in love with the brave and bright woman who came into his castle. He'd recognized her as a rare treasure the first moment he saw her. She was brave, not simply the false bravery that came from being powerful. Belle was afraid, but did the thing she feared in spite of it. That was real bravery, and it was something The Dark One rarely saw.

It was a concession to Belle's noble nature that caused him to stop at the Mayor's mansion. "Hello Prince Henry."

"Hi, Mr. Gold. Mom's not here now, do you need me to call her?"

"No, I'm actually here to see you. I'm going away for a little bit and I wanted to give you something." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thin book.

"_A Guide to the Fae World_? Cool. But this looks really old, do you want me to give it back to you when I'm done."

For a moment Gold considered doing the brave thing. Calling up Emma what was coming and how to prepare. But that probably wasn't even possible. He'd been created of an elemental magic that was coming, and that magic wouldn't allow him to tell their secrets. The best he could do was to save Belle. He momentarily considered taking Henry too, but he'd also need to take the Hatter's daughter and Cinderella's child and all the other kids of Storybrooke. Besides, Henry was the son of the savior. The blood of kings and warriors flowed through his veins. Letting him be taken was the best hope to free all of them.

"I'm not sure when I'll see you again, so you just hold on to that. Keep it on you at all times, you'll never know when it will come in handy." He let himself ruffle the boy's hair and offered a silent blessing of protection. It probably was useless without magic to back it up, but it couldn't hurt.

Belle didn't seem to notice when he entered the cabin. Her back was to the door as she was lighting candles. "Setting the mood, dearie?" he asked, enjoying her startled jump at his presence.

"You're early," she said.

"I couldn't wait another moment for you. I've already waited long enough."

Belle took a deep breath and then walked towards him, her blue eyes positively predatory. "Do you remember the first time we made love here?"

In fact, he didn't remember that. Must have been one of those points when the other one was in more control. No reason to let her know that. "I remember how beautiful you looked when you came in my arms. It's a memory I am particularly keen on reliving."

"I have a surprise for you," she purred, "Close your eyes."

"I can't see you if my eyes are closed."

"It won't be long, just for a moment." Warily, he closed them and then felt her take his hands in her own. Her felt the old metal on his wrists and heard the click of handcuffs.

"Well, this is quite a surprise indeed. Didn't realize my little wife had a kinky streak." Belle took a step away from him and the bedroom door opened. Emma, Ruby, Snow and Charming all walked out. "A very kinky streak indeed."

Emma ignored him and turned to Belle. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I don't know who that is, but it isn't Rumplestiltskin."

So, she figured it out. How much easier would life be if he had fallen in love with a less clever woman? Especially since her cleverness was liable to get her in trouble. They were on a tight schedule. "Belle," he said, doing his best impression of the spinner, "What's going on?"

Her slap was as unexpected as it was exciting. Oh, where had this little vixen been?

"You left your cane at home this morning," Belle spat, "And that's when I knew something was wrong. But you proved it when you said you wanted to meet here for a romantic weekend. We've only been here one time before, right after the curse break. My father's blood stained the rug. That sort of ruined the mood."

"Wouldn't have bothered me."

Belle slapped him again. "Where is my husband?

In spite of the handcuffs he grabbed her forearms, pulling her as close as he could to his face. "I'm right here, wife. You fell in love with the man and the monster, and we can't just be separated after lifetimes together. After all, we both fell in love with you."

"It's not possible. You don't exist. True love's kiss…" He shut her up with a bruising kiss of his own, holding her to him until she bit his lip so hard it drew blood. Her trembling hand reached towards her mouth, wiping away the red streak on her lips.

"How's that for true love's kiss?" Belle went pale and Emma held her in place, afraid she was about to faint. Charming pulled his sword and Ruby her gun, but he didn't have time for their theatrics. "Belle. I do love you. I was the one who would tell you those morbid jokes in the castle that you would snicker at. I'm the one who would tease you. I'm the one who made you scream out loud on the table. I may very well be the father of your child."

He was pleading with her, the closest he would get to begging. "Belle, believe me, we need to go. I have a plane ready. I have everything we need. We need to run. You, me, and the baby, we need to leave now or else all will be lost."

Instead of making the girl faint his words fortified her and offered strength. Emma went from supporting her to having to hold her back. "Do not speak about my child and don't you dare talk about love. You may have my husband's body but you don't have his heart. You are a monster."

"Yes I am. And when the monster wants to run from something, you damn well better follow."

Charming approached, his sword leveled at The Dark One's chest. "What is this danger you keep speaking of?"

"Well if I could just tell you then I wouldn't have gone to all this trouble, would I? But some secrets are unable to be uttered. Just believe me, they are coming and soon. You need to get Belle away from here. They'll take her too."

This wasn't working, and time was running short. The shadows were growing long even as the sun was going down. There wasn't long now. His only hope was to try and scare her away. With some concentration he allowed his body to change into the old form with greenish-gold scales and long talons. Emma looked away, but everyone else had seen this figure before.

"It's true, you really are back," Snow White said.

"Back? I never went away. I was just resting. Biding my time. Waiting to make my appearance until that weak old fool was no longer in control. I got very good at waiting. And, wife, I will keep waiting. Do you think that chains will hold me very long? Or that bars or a cage can contain what I am? It is just a matter of time until I am free. And the second I am I'm coming after you. I'll tear you inside out, little Belle, I only wonder if you'll enjoy it as much as you did before."

Ruby cocked the gun. "Belle, you don't need to hear this. You should leave."

"The wolf is right, you should leave. Snow, Charming, Savior…you should take her and run. Run as far away from me as you can get because I will tear her apart. I swear it."

The shadows took form, swirling vortexes of blackness that surrounded Belle. It was too late, but he couldn't just watch it happen. Like a rapid dog, The Dark One threw himself at the inky blackness, trying to claw them away from her.

"Get off her," Ruby yelled, "Stop whatever it is you're doing, Gold."

He couldn't stop. Not now. She was going to be taken. Stolen away forever and he couldn't stop. Nothing would stop him.

_BANG_

The bullet knocked him to the ground. Well, maybe something would stop him after all.


	8. Chapter 8

Ruby had killed men before, back in the old world devouring small scouting groups had been her specialty. But other than poor Peter, she didn't regret the lives she'd taken. They were the Queen's Men, the enemies in a war who would have killed her if she didn't get them first. Besides, when she killed in wolf form she didn't remember it when she turned back. The memory of pulling the trigger and seeing Mr. Gold collapse before her, that was seared into her memory. Her ears still rung from the sound of the shot and her forearms hurt from the kickback from the gun. It had seemed so necessary at that moment to hurt him to prevent whatever was happening. The benefit of time, and hindsight, made Ruby question her decision. What if he wasn't trying to attach Belle? If that black thing was something he was fighting against, not trying to help?

What the hell was going on?

She remembered pulling the trigger and seeing Rumplestiltskin hit the ground and turning back into Mr. Gold. What came after that was more of a blur. Then the cell phones started ringing. Emma's first, flowed by Ruby's and Snow's and Charming's. People were calling to report something impossible, shadows rising from the walls and taking their children. And it would be unbelievable, but they'd all just seen it happen to Belle.

They'd rushed Gold to the hospital where he was undergoing surgery and one of the administrative conference rooms had become a gathering place for the parents of the missing children. Ruby stood at the door, watching Emma in her element. Henry was one of the missing, but their Mayor hadn't wasted time crying over it. Her eyes were red with tears that would fall as soon as she had the luxury of time, but at the moment she was in hero mode. Her strength gave hope to the other parents, as she took the rolel of battlefield General.

"The orphanage has a video surveillance system that caught some of the disappearances. Astrid is bringing a copy, it might have some clues."

"We don't need it," Prince Thomas said, "This is clearly Rumplestiltskin. He is the one who deals in children. He tried to buy our child. " Ella clutched a small stuffed animal in her arms and started crying loudly. Dr. Hopper came forward and kneeled at her feet, offering her the comfort of his kind smile.

Ruby felt useless. There was no physical trail for her to try and track. No clues for her to follow. Magic had never been her domain. Even in the old world, where magic had been responsible for her curse and the cape that mitigated it, she never cared to learn how it worked. But many people in this world had no idea how their car worked, or the computer, so maybe it isn't that uncommon.

What Ruby did understand was the physical; even without her wolf form available she still had heightened senses. She'd seen the imp's fear at the loss of Belle, smelled the desperation in his nervous sweat, and heard the pain when he was begging her to run. The Dark One may have been the greatest trickster of two worlds, but those things weren't able to be faked.

He knew what was happening, but he wasn't behind it. She was sure of it.

"Whale," she said, seeing the man just out of the operating room, "What's up with Gold?"

"He's out surgery now, but he lost a lot of blood."

"What does that mean?"

"That it's still touch and go at this point. But even if he does survive, there's no way to know if there will be any long term damage. He was clinically dead when you brought him in here. There could be brain damage."

"Well, try and keep him alive. He is the only one who has any idea what the hell is going on." She was also not sure she really wanted to be responsible for his death, but she left that part unsaid.

He expected there to be a light. The stories always said that when you died you'd walk towards a light, but there wasn't any. It was just a blackness that slowly turned into grey, shadows that took forms of walls and floors until they formed his old home. Not the pink house or the dark castle he had shared with Belle, but the pathetic cottage he lived in with Bae. It was small and dirty, not the type of place fit to raise a child, and yet he had been happy here with his son. He had done the best he could to be the father Bae deserved and had come up short.

"You weren't that bad," a high pitched voice said behind him, "But you weren't that good either." The very human Mr. Gold turned to see Rumplestiltskin, in all his impish glory. One in a suit, the other in leathers, but both with dark red stains across their chests.

"So, this is hell?"

The imp cackled. "No, hell is much nicer than this. We are nowhere at the moment. An in-between waiting to see what will happen."

"How are you even still here? The curse was broken and you were destroyed."

The imp cackled, and how disconcerting it was to be on the receiving side of it for once. "The curse was broken but we were always bound by more than just a curse. That's why we are here, in this place. This is where it all began." With a wave of his hand figures appeared, Rumplestiltskin in the rags of pesat and a powerful darkness pretending to be a beggar.

"Do you know why I selected you?" The imp asked.

"You said it was because I was a desperate soul. That we both were."

"I saw your bravery by trying to save your child. Even placing your own ego side to appease a cruel Duke." Rumplestiltskin, the man, disagreed. He wasn't brave. He was a coward. He bowed and scraped before his child, kissing that bastards boot, because he was too afraid to fight. As if reading his mind the imp responded, "No, it was bravery. What was your other option? To fight the man? To refuse his command and be killed? That was what most did when confronted with him. Death before dishonor, never realizing that giving up on life is its own form of dishonor."

The imp walked towards him, continuing, "You were a man with a purpose. To save your son. And it just so happened that I needed someone with a purpose. We needed each other, you see. We've always needed one another."

"No. You ruined my life. Because of you Bae feared me. Because of you he's dead." That particular truth had never crossed his tongue before. Usually he spoke about Bae in the language of possibility. Even with magic he'd been unable to detect his son in the world, but maybe he lived elsewhere. Maybe he was in some other world. Maybe he was hidden from detection. But those were misdirection. Baelfire was dead, and it was because of the Dark One.

"If it wasn't for me the boy would have been dead anyway, killed by Ogre's along with an entire generation of children. And what of Belle? Without us she would have been killed by them also. Although, Belle wouldn't have been on the battlefield. No, a pretty thing like her would be a war prize. Do you know what the Ogre's do to their prizes?"

"Don't you dare talk about my wife."

"She's not YOUR wife. She is ours." The creature reached out and touched the spinner's hand. In a flash they were standing in the middle of the war room of Lord Maurice, walking through the memory as everyone stood still, frozen in time. Belle was wearing that gold dress, standing with her simpleton fiancé on one side and over-his-head father on her other.

"Do you remember what you thought the first moment you saw her?" The imp asked.

"That she wasn't afraid," the man muttered. Gaston and Maurice looked wary, nervous, but Belle's head was cocked to the side, her brown eyes greedily taking everything in. She was like a fearless child standing on the ledge and only seeing the view, not the danger.

"That's what you observed, not what you thought. What did you think of our wife the first time you saw her?"

"That she was fearless, and that it was so exciting to have someone who wasn't afraid."

The imp held up his finger, wagging it side to side while making a clucking noise with his tongue. "No. That's what _I_ thought. What you thought was that this girl in her pretty dress had no idea what war was like, because if she did she'd be hiding in terror the way you had before we met."

Was that right? When he first became cursed with the Dark One it was easy to separate his own thoughts from those of the curse, but over the strands of their personalities twined together. At this moment, the two men separate, it was easier to go back and unwind the rope. The monster had been the one impressed by the girl, and he was the one who wanted to punish her.

At least at first. It was the man who had dismissed the broken cup as nothing of importance. The monster wanted to punish her and hear her cry for mercy. When Gaston appeared, the man had considered letting Belle be rescued, but the monster is who turned the man into a rose and gave it as a gift.

"She fell in love with both of us," the man realized as the imp nodded. "And we both loved her."

"We both still love her," the imp said sadly. "Now she is gone, and that is something that belongs only to me. But all is not lost. We can save her, but it will have to be together."

/

Belle was awake, at least her mind was, but her body refused to cooperate. She tried so hard to open her eyes, to look and see where she was. It was impossible though. Her arms were frozen, her legs seems glued. But she could hear two people above her, a man and woman.

"She's a bit old isn't she?" the man said, and Belle only wished she could have made a face at him.

The female voice was melodious, the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard. "Don't get too attached Piper. She isn't part of our little arrangement."

"Then why is she here?"

A hand softly touched her abdomen. "She carries the future Prince. She shall live long enough to birth it."

"And then?"

The female voice turned hard. "Do not worry about her. Worry about the children. The clock is counting on them. Let us see if they can make it."

They must have left then, behind the slamming of a large wooden door. Belle's eyes could finally open, and she was looking at a man, in his twenties but who seemed much younger. His brown eyes twinkled with mischief, and he held a finger against his lips warning her to be quiet.

"Leave the window open," he whispered. "I will come at night. We have much to talk about?"

"Who are you?" Belle whispered.

"I go by many names. You can call me Peter Pan."


End file.
